and the name of the game is just the living

[more_magic]

They keep Alex at the hospital for a few days, as much for observation as for treatment. Darlington stays as much as he can, calling out of work and finding someone to take care of Kirby, making quick trips home to change and shower before he's back again. When they talk, it's stilted and hesitant, inconsequential things that only emphasize the enormity of what they're both avoiding.

It could go on like this. Maybe it'd be better if it did. But Darlington knows neither of them can ignore it forever.

He's there when she's discharged, the removal of all the tubes and wires from her slim frame only serving to emphasize how thin she is, and how unsteady. He hands her the change of clothes he'd brought, loose, comfortable things, going out into the hallway while she dresses. The cab ride from the hospital back to the Bramford is a silent thing, both of them looking out of opposite windows, their hands resting on the seat between them with fingers just barely touching.

Kirby jumps off the couch when they come in, nearly losing his mind with simple canine joy as he snuffles first at Alex, then Darlington, then Alex again, his tail practically a dark blur as it whips back and forth. "Down," he says, but there's no force in it. Alex goes to the couch, Kirby following, and Darlington scrubs a hand through his hair.

"I'll run you a bath," he offers. "If you'd like, and then...I think we should talk. Finally."

Comments

[takecourage]

She takes her hand away from his, bone weary suddenly, his anger making her feel vulnerable in a way she doesn't like, and covers her face with her hands.

"He only gave me what I asked for, Danny. Anything I did, I did it to myself. And if he hadn't sold it to me, I'd have got it from someone who's product I trust a lot less."

[more_magic]

"Purity is not an argument for leniency."

There's a precinct not far from the museum. He could go there tomorrow. He could do it on his lunch break, and then it'd be done--but Alex pulls away and puts her face in her hands, and that tells him all he needs to know about this particular decision. He hates it, this sense of someone getting away with something they shouldn't, and once again it's someone who wouldn't be too far out of place in Manuscript if they were at home. But he'll do it.

He takes a breath, letting the last of his anger flow out on the exhale. "Okay. I promise. I won't go after him. If that's what you're asking, I'll do it."

[takecourage]

"There's more," she says, a faint touch of colour touching her cheekbones. "And either I need to get dressed or we both need to be naked for the next bit."

She can't talk about the rest feeling this fucking vulnerable.

[more_magic]

"I think we'll overflow the tub if I get in," he says, and even though he offers her a faint, gentle smile, it's not enough to dispel the uncertainty that settles heavy in his gut. Of course there would be more. And whatever it is, it's something she can't face up to right now.

"Want me to wash your hair, and then you can get dressed? We can...have a reprieve for a minute. If that'll help what comes next."

[takecourage]

The idea of him washing her hair for jet actually sounds amazing right then and Alex nods, shifting her position in the tub to lean forward slightly.

"Yes, please."

[more_magic]

He'd done it once or twice before, but that was when things had been different between them. Now, as he kneels by the side of the tub and unbuttons his cuffs, he wonders if it's not some last, desperate attempt at pretending nothing had changed.

He's not sure how to touch her, whether he has a right to yet, again, ever. But he rolls up his sleeves, and cups water in his hands to let it trickle down her hair, and the familiar motions still feel the same. His long fingers scrub shampoo into her hair with slow, methodical intent, watching her face for some sign of contentment, a confirmation that maybe not all had been lost. Once it's done, her hair rinsed clean, he pulls the plug from the drain and gets up, holding out a hand to help her stand.

[takecourage]

As he washes her hair, Alex lets her eyes drift close, sinking into the gentle, careful touch. When it's done, when she feels squeaky clean, he stands and offers her his hand and she takes it, hauling herself up out of the tub, water rolling down her bare skin. She's not self conscious about him seeing her naked, even now, and she steps out of the tub, reaching for a towel for her hair and her robe.

"Give me a minute?" she says, pausing in the doorway. "Can you make me some tea? Please?"

[more_magic]

She's still painfully thin, the purpling track marks still evident in the crook of her arm, but the bath seems to have restored at least a bit of the girl he knows. It doesn't even feel like wishful thinking. Darlington gets her robe while she pulls a towel from the rack, his hand brushing hers when she takes it from him.

"Take whatever time you need," he says, stepping out into the hallway, turning back to look at her there at the door. "I'll get the kettle started."

[takecourage]

It's a few minutes later when Alex comes padding out of their bedroom in sweats and a t-shirt, her damp hair pulled back from her face, shrouded in one of Darlington's hoodies.

"Okay," she says, folding herself into one end of the couch.

[more_magic]

Darlington busies himself in the kitchen, both listening and not for the occasional sounds of Alex moving around in their bedroom. In the bedroom. He's not even sure it's theirs any more. He gets the tea out of the cupboard, some herbal blend that promises comfort even if it doesn't have any of Alex's beloved caffeine, and when the water's boiled he pours it into two mugs, letting it steep as he carries both out to the living room.

She comes out of the bedroom a moment after he's set their tea down on the coffee table, and he glances up. He recognizes the hoodie as his, or one that started out that way; she'd taken it so often that his claim of ownership, like so many other things, had long ceased to be important. Alex chooses one end of the couch and he takes the other, settling in and turning to face her.

"Whenever you're ready."

[takecourage]

Alex leans and picks up her tea, cradling the cup in her hands until it's almost painful. That's useful, that pain - it focuses her.

"I was..." She frowns. "With other people. While we were broken up."

[more_magic]

She doesn't try to soften it, doesn't lead into it with anything more than the plain facts of what it is. Whether that makes it worse or better than if she'd tried, he doesn't know, but like this, it feels like a punch in the gut.

He hadn't even thought of them as broken up. Fractured, yes, but ultimately reparable. He doesn't like to think that he might have been wrong.

Alex is watching him, that wariness back in her eyes, and Darlington knows he has to say something. It takes him a moment, and even when the words come, they're a little rough. "And that was your choice?" he says. "It wasn't...however many times it was, you wanted it, it wasn't a result of the pills or the weed or anything else."

[takecourage]

She watches the look flit across his face, hears the pain in his voice, and wishes that she could take it back, screw herself up so small that she'd disappear.

"Nobody raped me, Danny," she says, gently. "I...enthusiastically consented. I just wanted to...feel something that wasn't missing you."

[more_magic]

If nothing else, that soothes his concern, the sudden fear that once again she'd been out in the world unprotected, unknown to him, and been harmed by that.

"You didn't have to miss me, Alex," he says. "You could have come home." His voice cracks on the last word, and once again he feels the sting of tears behind his eyes. He's not fast enough at blinking them back this time.

[takecourage]

"I didn't think I had a home to come back to," she says, and then she realises that he's crying and something breaks in her chest. She sets down the cup, shuffling closer, though she doesn't reach out to touch him. "I didn't...I didn't think we could fix it, Danny. I didn't think you'd want to and I just...running from it felt safer."

[more_magic]

"I did want to." Alex stops herself before she touches him, and Darlington can't make himself close the gap either. Not yet. The increased closeness, at least, feels like a start. He shakes his head, wiping his fingers briskly against his eyes, ashamed by the suddenness of his tears. "I do. Whatever would've made you feel you don't need to run again."

He exhales, hard and shaken. "Who were they?"

[takecourage]

She reaches out, just lightly touching the back of his hand with her fingers, stroking lightly.

"Do you think knowing would really help, Danny? None of it...it didn't matter to me. It's not going to happen again."

[more_magic]

He looks down at his hand when she touches him, watching the gentle track of her fingers along his skin, so light and hesitant that it seems like something new. Alex is right, and he knows it. Whoever it had been, a random stranger in a bar, someone she'd chosen after a shift at the club, maybe even a friend, that knowledge won't be anything he can use to build on. He shakes his head, and looks up again.

"I'm not going to ask that you promise me that," he says. "But I believe you."

[takecourage]

"I'll tell you anything else you want to know," she says, her fingers still stroking against his skin. "In the interests of honesty and...wanting to fix this...because I fucking do." She leans her cheek against the back of the sofa. "But I don't think knowing their names would help."

[more_magic]

"No," he says. "It wouldn't help." He's quiet for a moment, thinking, aware of the continued sweep of her fingers along the back of his hand. There's nothing, he realizes, he needs to know about this; the names wouldn't be any more of a solution than asking for details, of where and what and how many times.

"Are the drugs something I'm going to need to worry about?" he asks instead, finally giving voice to the thing that had been flickering at the back of his mind for the last few days. "Not the weed, you know I don't care about that. Everything else. I..." Darlington has to look away from her, swallowing hard. "I cannot find you on the floor like that again, Alex. Please."

[takecourage]

She shakes her head.

"It was...really fucking stupid of me," she says, her fingers curling around his wrist, giving her a way to anchor herself. "The greys were everywhere and I missed you so much and...I thought we were done, Danny. And...I didn't want to feel it anymore." She tips her head, letting her hair curtain her face.

"It won't happen again. I promise."

[more_magic]

It wrenches at him, the thought of her desperation, that she wished so badly to be free of the pain of their separation that she'd gone that far. And would have gone further, if he hadn't gotten to her when he did, if he hadn't been prepared thanks to that first, horrible instinct.

"Okay," he says. "Thank you." Her hair falls in her face, and he lifts his free hand, automatically tucking it back behind her ear. He lingers there for a beat longer than necessary, the tip of one finger along the curve of her ear before he pulls his hand away.

"We both want to fix this," he says, and just saying it relaxes another bit of tension in his chest. "And we will. I believe that. I just need to know where you want to go from here."

[takecourage]

She leans her cheek into the touch while its there, her heart aching when it suddenly isn't anymore. She keeps her fingers loosely curled around his wrist. It's not holding his hand, but it's close.

"I want...to get back to where we were," she says. "But I don't...You have to tell me how we can do that." She glances up at him. "Do you still love me?"

[more_magic]

"Yes," he says immediately, unequivocally, another sharp pain in his heart at the fact she ever thought otherwise. "I was upset, I was angry, it's been about five minutes so I think you'll understand when I say I'm still trying to come to terms with the fact you slept with other people, but Alex, I still love you. Of course I do."

He turns his hand in her grip, his fingers brushing the soft underside of her wrist. There's so many ways that this might go, but all of them, he thinks, lead them forward. Dante and Virgil, progressing through a hell of their own making. They'll get there. He has to believe that.

"We need to talk in a way that matters. Be honest with each other. Trust each other." Darlington ignores the faint whisper of his grandfather's voice then, the one at the back of his mind that has things to say about the Arlington way and goddamn California psychoanalytical claptrap making you soft, Danny. "And I'm including myself in that. As I said already, it doesn't have to be everything and it doesn't mean having no secrets, but it has to be the things that are important."

[takecourage]

"I love you too."

She's never meant anything so much in her lie. He turns his hand in hers and she keeps up the light touch, not pulling away. She nods. "It's...a habit. I'm going to have to break it. But you're worth it. This is worth it."